


pin lightning

by thunderylee



Category: Arashi (Band), Japanese Actor RPF, KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Grease Parody, M/M, POV First Person, Recreational Marijuana, Romance, mpreg mockery, past jin/taguchi, side aiba/becky, side kame/meisa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-20
Updated: 2010-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-30 09:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12650385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: To be completely honest, Jin never thought he would see him again.





	pin lightning

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for jerainbowbridge 2010.

###  _Oh, Those Summer Nights_

It was like something straight out of a shoujo manga. One minute I was at the beach, showing off my mad skills for the surf gods, and the next thing I knew I had wiped out because of this _vision_ that was just, I don’t even know. _Angelic_. Nice body, longish curly hair, tanned skin that seemed to shine right back at the moon.

And the dumbass clearly didn’t know the difference between a surfboard and a pair of roller skates. (Yeah, it was a dude – don’t judge. It takes a real man to appreciate another guy’s physique, okay. I’d be flattered if someone as hot as me thought I looked good.)

After shaking my wet hair out of my face, I looked over and saw nothing but waves. At first I thought I’d hit my head without realizing it, or more likely toked up too much before riding the tide and hallucinating his entire existence like some kind of sexy mirage. But then his cheap board broke the surface and, even after a few excruciating seconds, there was no person following it.

I swam in that direction without another thought. My brother was a lifeguard in high school, so I know a few things. Since it was one-thirty in the morning, it was dark and I couldn’t see shit, so I flailed my arms around aimlessly underwater until I made contact with something firm and prayed that it wasn’t a shark. I’m too beautiful to get eaten.

So was this guy, especially now that I had him up close. I felt like I was doing a service to the women and gay men of Japan by saving his life, even if he was kind of an idiot for surfing by himself at night. He wasn’t knocked out or anything, which is good because I don’t actually remember how to do CPR or whatever you do when someone’s knocked out, but he had this scrunched-up look on his face that reminded me of my own face when I accidentally look over at the mirror while I’m jerking off.

“Dude,” I said, a little creeped out, a lot interested.

“ _Ow_ ,” he moaned, and that’s when I realized he was in _pain_.

That made much more sense, so instead of treading water while trying to hold this dude up (seriously, he was all muscle), I nudged him onto my back and breast-stroked towards land. For the most part he wrapped his arms around my neck and held on, and we made it to the beach with only a few instances of near-drowning. Even if those instances had nothing to do with his hands on my throat and everything to do with the way his fingers dropped down to my collarbones when he tried to hoist himself further up my back.

I didn’t even know this guy’s name and already he knew where I was the most ticklish. I had a feeling this would set the tone for our entire relationship, whatever that may be. But for now I let it all slide in favor of how fucking beautiful he was, even with how much he was hurting as he unceremoniously rolled off of me and onto the sand, clutching the back of his thigh.

Now, I don’t know much about muscle cramps, but I’ve given a few massages in my time. Mostly as a prelude to sex, but that wasn’t entirely out of the question here either. There was this one time in high school when a buddy and I got really high and fucked around and it wasn’t entirely unenjoyable, although we were too young to try anything more daring than shoving our hands in each other’s pants and sucking face. Probably I wouldn’t get much further tonight. It wouldn’t be that smart to bend him over and go to town right there, being a public beach in a uni town and all.

Whatever I was doing must have been working, because his face relaxed as I dug my fingers into the back of his leg. Dude really was _ripped_ ; I was getting a semi just from touching him. I bet you could bounce a quarter off of his ass.

“You shouldn’t try to surf alone until you don’t completely suck,” is all I said.

“What’s your excuse then?” he replied with a smirk.

Flirtatious. I was definitely getting some. _Sweet_.

“You smoke?” I asked casually as I flopped onto my back, exhausted from actually making an effort while baked. I kind of hoped he said no because my stash was like 500 feet away.

“Sort of,” he replied.

There might have been something in his tone there, but I was too exhausted to think about it any further. What I did notice was an accent, a kind of hot one, which baffled me because he looked full Japanese. “Are you from around here?” I asked, picking my words carefully because it’s kind of rude to accuse an Asian of not being legit.

“I was born in Chiba, but raised in Australia,” he tells me, each syllable dripping like pure sex from his lips. I was pretty much done with talking by this point, nodding along like I gave a shit about what his parents did and how they came to visit the homeland over summer break.

Then I found out that ‘smoking pole’ meant the same thing in Australia as it does in the states, and that his name was Yamashita Tomohisa. In that order.

To be completely honest, I never thought I would see him again. So I blew him back.

Good times.

###  _Conventionality Belongs to Yesterday_

“What are you so fucking happy about?” Nino greeted me through his cigarette. He stopped tuning his bass long enough to give me a fist-pound and toss me a stick as I flung my ass into the ratty armchair and reached for my baby.

“School’s starting up,” I answered vaguely as I strummed a few chords. “Lots of fresh meat roaming around town just _begging_ to be grilled.”

“Yeah,” Nino agreed, like he gave two shits about women. Or dudes for that matter; this one’s focus was solely on his band – the T-birds – and ‘making it’.

The only thing we were making was a lot of noise in Nino’s parents’ garage, but everyone has their dreams. Mine were to bang every pussy in this zip code; his were to be rich and lazy. We understand each other like that.

“You’re both pigs,” that bitch spoke up from the drum set. “I should leave your dumbasses and go join some butch chick band.”

“You keep saying that, Meisa-chan, yet you keep showing up to practice,” Sakurai Sho pointed out as he rolled a joint. (As a side note, I really fucking hate when Sho rolls the joints because he’s all about ~making the weed last~ and only packs enough for a buzz. But it’s still better than when Nino rolls the joints, because Nino makes one end ridiculously fat so that he can chief the first hit and skimp the rest of us. I’m too lazy to roll the joints and I don’t trust that bitch with my stash, so I deal.)

“I hate working with bitches,” Meisa responded, and I snorted because it takes one to know. “You idiots aren’t nearly as bad as a bunch of feminists trying to agree on empowering lyrics.” She smirked. “And I’m totally the hot one in this crowd.”

I’ll give her that, even if she would never let me hit it. Bitch.

Just then Nino’s garage door opened, the screeching sound of metal on metal making me reminisce about my last guitar solo as the fucking thing shook like it was going to fall off its hinges and crush us all.

I looked to my left and felt that I could quickly grab Nino at the last minute and hold him in front of me to lessen the impact. Satisfied with my survival plan, I sucked on my smoke and focused on the usual suspects who were crashing our practice.

“Idiots,” spat Nishikido Ryo, our half-assed and half-sized manager who never did anything but give us shit. Good thing he worked for free. “Is this a practice session or a smoke-out?”

“Fuck you,” I replied affectionately, nodding up to Kame and MatsuJun as they came into my line of focus. Technically Kame was stage crew and Jun was our ‘image coordinator’ (his self-proclaimed title), but they were really just old friends of ours who couldn’t play instruments and were all butthurt about wanting to be included. Even Taguchi and Yoko could blow a decent horn (amongst other things, I hear), but they have real jobs and lives, so they don’t waste their time practicing with us unless we have actual gigs.

Sometimes we played bars or house parties, but mostly we just sat around getting high and talking big. This is how most bands start out, so we feel that we’re on the right path.

There was someone new lingering behind Ryo, which was really obvious because Ryo was like four feet tall and this other person was pushing six. It wasn’t until he started to shine at the edge of my vision that my blood ran cold and my buzz was killed.

“Oh, this here’s Yamapi,” Ryo introduced carelessly, jerking his thumb behind him. “He’s in Jun’s lit class and new to the area so I thought he might like some loser friends.”

‘Yamapi’ met my eye and froze, looking like a gorgeous deer in headlights as I became torn between outing us and feigning disinterest. I went with somewhere in the middle as I raised my hand in an unmoving wave and gave an “oh.”

“Jin-kun,” he gasped, and I knew from the way Ryo’s face lit up that this wasn’t going to be favorable for my street cred. “I was hoping to see you here!”

_Hoping?_ That was a little creepy. I was _hoping_ that he’d decided to transfer to this school because of its amazing ethics program (the professor’s hot, anyway, although I hear she used to have a wang), not because of any lingering feelings from our roll in the sand. He gave good head, but it wasn’t _that_ good.

“Here I am,” I said, offering a noncommittal shrug.

Both Nino and Ryo were beside themselves with glee, looking like they were racing to see who could mock me first. “Isn’t that cute,” Nino won, as he usually does. “How do you two know each other?”

“Jin-kun saved my life when I was here checking out the campus this summer,” Yamapi told them _happily_ ; seriously, did they not know the meaning of ‘subtle’ down under? “I was surfing and got a cramp, and he rescued me.”

Six pairs of eyes turned to me in disbelief, and I knew what they were all thinking because I would have thought the same thing. I really only give a shit about other people when they are beneficial to me somehow, or I want in their pants.

“I thought you said it was a girl?” Sho asked out of nowhere, still concentrating on rolling the joint because he’s one of those perfectionist types. I totally forgot that I let it slip to this motherfucker when he showed up to my house the next day to drag me out of bed and make me listen to some retarded melody he’d dreamt up.

“Well, he does have a nice rack,” I joked, because that’s what I do when things get awkward, and I really didn’t like the way Yamapi was looking at me like I was fucking Prince Charming on a unicorn.

If anything, at least it knocked out that lovesick glaze from his eyes. It was replaced with hurt, though, and for a moment I was amazed that someone could show so much emotion without actually making any facial expressions. Then I felt guilty because I’m not the kind of guy who gets off on making fun of others (like Nino and Ryo), and I’d basically fucked any chances I had of having those lips anywhere on my body as I watched Yamapi turn around and sprint down Nino’s driveway, out of my sight.

_Dammit._

“You’re a douche,” Jun informed me, giving me a snotty look before flipping his hair and prancing off after the newcomer. Sho looked up in minimal interest, because he and Jun go way back to the sandbox or some shit, but I guess it wasn’t important enough to tear him away from the weed. It hardly ever is.

“That’s rough, man,” Nino said to me, actually looking sympathetic. I nearly died of shock when he offered me first hit.

“He’ll come around,” Ryo added, which made it even more bizarre.

Kame started checking the mic stands and doing other redundant shit that makes him feel important. “I’m having a get-together at my place tonight, wanna come?”

I would rather clean the gutters than go to one of Kame’s lame parties. He won’t let me smoke inside, so I’m banished to the backyard while a bunch of dudes sit around getting hyped up on Cherry Coke and having video game tournaments. I’ll pass on the sausage fest, thanks.

“Busy, sorry,” I replied as I let out the hit I’d been holding in. Ah, that was better.

“I have to work,” Nino announced triumphantly, like bagging groceries and fetching carts was something to brag about. “I’ll try to swing by afterwards, though.”

Sho sighed. Clearly it was a tough decision. “I probably shouldn’t. I have a PoliSci project due next week.” His face lit up like it would be the most fun he’s had in a long time. So weird, even if homework probably _would_ be fun compared to hanging out at Kame’s.

That bitch wasn’t as nice about it. “I’d rather have sex with Akanishi than spend any more time with you than I have to.”

“That can be arranged,” I spoke up, letting my head loll to the side so I could flick my tongue out at her.

She made a disgusted face and banged on the cymbals loud enough to make my head throb. Bitch.

“Practice, fuckers,” Ryo demanded, and we did.

###  _Hopelessly Devoted to You_

Later that night, while I was passed out and dreaming of being in a Kardashian sandwich, Ryo was attempting to initiate Yamapi into the official T-birds groupie club.

“You can’t be one of us and not have your ear pierced,” Ryo said bluntly, poised at the ready with a needle, an ice cube, and a sadistic look in his eye.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Kame added as he wistfully drooled over the faculty section of our local university’s admissions packet. He’s the only guy I know who pervs over professors’ mugshots.

“It has to be pierced so that you can rock the logo,” Jun explained gently, draping himself behind Yamapi with his bangs pulled up off his forehead. He pointed to the tiny lightning bolt in his left ear and pouted. “It’s our _thing_.”

“Why a lightning bolt?” Yamapi asked nervously. “I thought you said they’re called the T-birds?”

“‘T’ stands for ‘thunder’,” Jun answered. “Thunder and lightning, get it?”

“Not really-” Yamapi started, but he was cut off when Jun pinned his arms behind his back and Kame leapt up to hold his head still.

“Don’t move,” Ryo said needlessly, since Yamapi was clearly scared stiff and could do nothing but close his eyes and brace himself. Ryo numbed his earlobe and stuck the needle through it, then followed it with the earring and secured it with the back.

It seemed painless enough, and the other three offered Yamapi supportive smiles until Jun paused to peer at the new piercing. “Ooh, it’s bleeding.”

The next thing either of them knew, Yamapi had struggled out of their grasps and ran for the bathroom, followed by obvious retching sounds.

Ryo gave Jun a disappointed look. “I don’t know about him, man. He’s such a _prude_.”

“He’ll be fine,” Jun insisted. “He just needs to adjust.”

“Not everybody is an instant slut like you,” Kame commented as he scribbled furiously into a swirly Lisa Frank notebook.

“You should talk,” Ryo shot back. “What are you writing anyway, love letters?”

Kame snorted. “To Penthouse, maybe. Right now I’m doing Haruna-sensei over her desk.”

“That’s disgusting,” Ryo said while Jun leaned over Kame’s shoulder to read. “Don’t you know that she used to be a-?”

He was interrupted by his phone going off, which coincided with Yamapi’s return from the bathroom. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s cool,” Jun said distractedly, tilting his head to see better as Kame kept writing.

“Later,” Ryo called out, grinning at his phone as the other three looked up curiously.

“Where do you think you are going?” Kame asked incredulously. “It’s two in the morning!”

Ryo winked as he headed for the window. “I have to get my kicks while I’m still young enough to get them!”

Jun and Kame both rolled their eyes, because they probably knew that Ryo was just going to meet up with Nino and cruise the club district in the pussy wagon, but Yamapi’s eyes widened like he was seriously impressed as Ryo hopped right out the window. What Yamapi didn’t know was that Ryo had to shimmy down the drainpipe because Kame’s older brother would kick his ass again if he woke him up by going out the front door.

Yamapi frowned as he noticed the fluff on the end of Kame’s pen moving. “What are you doing?”

Kame rushed to hide the words, much to Jun’s displeasure. “Writing a letter to my girlfriend. It’s private.”

“Oh, I see.” Yamapi eyed the turtle stationary. “Could I have a piece of that?”

“Sure,” Kame replied carelessly. “I have more pens in my desk.”

Yamapi rooted around in Kame’s drawers until he found another fluff pen, then curled up in the corner to write. After a few minutes, he still didn’t have any words, and Kame’s house techno was annoying enough to break anyone’s concentration. “Is it cool if I go outside?” he asked hopefully.

“Use the backdoor,” was Kame’s distracted answer. He’d uncovered his pages and Jun was practically humping his back, hanging on the edge of every written word.

It was warm for autumn as Yamapi walked barefoot in the grass, pausing at the inflatable kiddie pool that Kame’s older brothers used to fill up with beer when they were in uni because they were infinitely cooler than their younger sibling. Now it had a few inches of water in it from the most recent rainfall, which Yamapi peered at as he knelt next to it like he was staring deeply at his own reflection.

Then he thrust the blank paper into the water like he was purposely drowning it, a relaxed look in his eye that made the whole scenario borderline psychotic.

At least he got whatever it was out of his system. Hopefully.

###  _A Trade-In on Your Smile_

I really had to get a job, one that wasn’t selling weed because I was shit at that. Too nice or something, if I didn’t smoke up all of my profit first.

“I’m not covering you,” Nino said firmly as we sat at our booth in the back corner of our favorite local dive. “Get Scrunchie to give you some free shit.”

Jun narrowed his eyes over his order pad, his hair swinging from a ponytail on the top of his head with a bright pink puffy hair tie. “Stop calling me that. They make me put my hair up since it’s so long. And I’m not giving you anything for free, you cheap bastard.”

Next to me, Sho leaned over and nudged my arm. “Get whatever you want, I got you.”

“Thanks, man,” I said gratefully, clapping him on the shoulder. This is totally why we keep this one around.

Ryo wasn’t saying anything, which was odd because usually he’s the first one to make a dig at me for being broke. I found out the hard way what had caught his attention, following his line of sight and getting blindsided by the biggest douchebag from my high school class chatting up Yamapi at the bar.

“What the actual fuck,” I muttered under my breath.

“Is that Ikuta fucking Toma?” Nino exploded, a grin spreading on his face as he stood up and yelled for the whole place to hear. “Dude!”

It looked like it was a grand effort for Toma to tear his eyes away from Yamapi, his douchebag face lighting up even more when he saw Nino. “Dude!”

Meisa and Kame were already rushing to pull over another table, and Nino hopped over the back of the booth to practically drag the pair of them over. Talk about awkward. Ryo and Nino gave up their seats for Toma and Yamapi, which left Yamapi sitting directly across from me.

“Hi,” he said smugly.

“‘Sup,” I replied casually, because I am a cool cat and not at all jealous.

Toma just grinned obliviously like he always did. Douchebag.

“How’ve you been, man?” Nino asked excitedly as Jun brought our orders and plopped his ass down at our table. “Haven’t seen you around.”

“I’ve been busy recording,” Toma answered, and my head perked up in attention. “I’m about to graduate and my advisor knows someone from Avex Trax, so I’ve been doing some demo songs just in case.”

“That is _so cool_ ,” Yamapi practically swooned. I slurped my strawberry milkshake angrily. “Can I listen to them sometime? I want to hear you sing.”

“I can sing,” I announced so fast that I almost choked on my shake. “I’m in a band, you know. As one of the main singers. I have real high harmony and shit. My falsetto is fierce.”

Toma smiled gently like he was addressing a child. “Singing _backup_ in a band isn’t the same thing as singing by yourself,” he said in this douchebag condescending tone. “Besides, you’ve never really been able to sing in front of a large crowd, have you? Kind of necessary to be a _real_ singer.”

I started to lean up to get in his face, but Sho halted me with a brief touch to my arm. “Jun-kun, are you okay?”

Everyone turned their attention to Jun, who was dabbing at his eyes with a napkin. “ _No_ ,” he said dramatically. “I failed my project today. I may have to change my major!”

This may not be a big fucking deal to anyone else, but to Matsumoto Jun being a designer was _everything_. He was a fashion major who thought he could change the world with style, and nothing anyone said could tell him otherwise.

Except, apparently, his professor. “I don’t want to work in this bar forever,” he whined, his ponytail shaking with the force of his frustration. “I don’t want to change my major, and I _don’t_ think that sparkly pink-and-purple-horizontal-striped leggings are an eyesore!”

Even Kame cringed. “Maybe if they were different colors?”

Jun eyeballed him. “If they were different colors, they wouldn’t be as _fabulous_.”

He had a point there. “Fuck school, man,” I said comfortingly. “Aren’t you our image coordinator? What some cunt professor said won’t matter when we’re rocking your fabulosity on stage. Man up, Scrunchie.”

“Yeah,” Sho agreed, then nudged me again. “Let’s go smoke.”

Since I know damn well that Sho doesn’t smoke cigarettes, I was all for this. Also I may have noticed Yamapi’s eye on _me_ as I shrugged back into my hoodie and yeah, that’s right. Guys who stand up for their homeboys are hot. Much hotter than pretentious douchebags who probably sing with no vibrato.

Speaking of, the bar’s jukebox was actually playing decent western hip-hop for once. I was confident enough in my English to belt out the first verse and chorus of Justin Timberlake’s ‘My Love’, complete with impromptu pop-and-lock, while I waited for Sho to calculate our percentage of the tip. I made it a point to look right at Yamapi during the ‘walking in the beach, our toes in the sand’ line, and I could swear I saw him blush.

Everyone but Toma applauded, and I took my bow. In your face, Ikuta. Yamapi was _mine_.

###  _It’s Raining on Prom Night_

Yamapi wanted to go to one of those university-sponsored ‘keep the kids off of the street and away from drugs’ clusterfucks of bad music and sixth-grade dancing, which was kind of ironic since I was spending most of it out in the parking lot getting high with Taguchi and Yoko. Cool guys, them, even if Taguchi never shuts the fuck up _normally_ let alone when stoned, and Yoko kept kind of zoning out and watching the raindrops streak down the glass like it was the second coming of Jesus Christ himself through the steamed-up back window of Nino’s shagging wagon.

Then there really was a face in the window, and Taguchi and I yelped and grabbed onto each other while Yoko just looked satisfied.

“ _Ji~in_ ,” Yamapi whined as he opened the door and let out a huge cloud of smoke. Normally his tone would be annoying, but I imagined that’s what it would sound like when he moaned my name during sex. “Are you going to spend the whole night out here?”

“Fuck, you look good,” I told him, squinting to take in his perfectly-knotted tie and dress slacks. The way the water dripped down his hair was like something straight out of a porno. “I’m glad you dragged me here.”

Yamapi folded his arms and gave me an unimpressed face. “I didn’t ask you to bring me so that you could spend the whole time out here with them.”

“Don’t worry!” Taguchi exclaimed, speaking in a higher pitch than normal as he alternated between giggling and waving his arms emphatically. “It was only that one time. I don’t even like guys anymore. I am _all about the punani_ now, okay.”

Yoko’s face dropped into his palm. “Imbecile.”

It occurred to me exactly what Taguchi was referring to at the same time Yamapi’s face turned stern. “Jin, what is he talking about?”

“Um,” I began, my words failing me as Yamapi fixed me with hawk eyes. “Back in high school, Taguchi and I got stoned for the first time together…”

“We had a _thing_ ,” Taguchi gleefully declared, providing unhelpful hand gestures while I wondered if Nino’s floorboards would swallow me up, provided I could find enough energy to hurl myself into the backseat. “It was nothing.”

“It was nothing,” I repeated, giving Yamapi pleading eyes.

He wasn’t buying it. “I have been trying to ignore all of the nasty things I hear about you,” he began evenly. “But you keep proving them true.”

“That was six fucking years ago!” I protested, raising my voice. “Do I give a shit who jerked you off six years ago?”

“I’m not in the back of a station wagon getting high with them,” Yamapi hissed through his teeth.

“Um,” Yoko spoke up, then promptly slumped against the wheel well and fell asleep.

“Oh my god, I am not interested in ugly Taguchi,” I stressed. “ _At all_.”

“I like girls now,” Taguchi insisted. “Even if Jin kind of looks like a girl in the face.”

Yamapi huffed and walked away, and I only stared at his ass for a little bit before I grumbled and tripped my way out of the wagon. Thankfully I didn’t land on my face, but my shoulder hurt like a motherfucker as I attempted to fasten my belt properly at my waist and button up the open part of my shirt to meet dress code. Stupid school functions.

It was really gay inside, gayer than the actual gay pride festival I’d checked out when I spent my last year of high school abroad. Balloons and sparkles and fucking streamers everywhere, accompanied by bubble gum pop and the same damn people I suffered through junior prom with.

A plastic cup full of red liquid was placed in front of my face, followed by Kame’s voice. “It’s spiked.”

“Good,” I replied, downing half of it in one gulp and blinking fiercely at the after-effects. Absolut, nice. “Any luck with Haruna-sensei?”

“Fuck you,” Kame scoffed, and I laughed. “She’s here with her boyfriend.”

“Lame,” I replied. “She should be letting you bend her over behind the speaker.”

“Right?” Kame agreed. “I’m glad you think so.”

I lifted up my cup in a silent toast, and Kame tapped it with his. Sometimes we understand each other too. “Have you seen Pi?” I asked casually.

“Isn’t that him over there talking to-” Kame cut himself off with a deflated noise. “Oh no, it’s Becky.”

“Run!” I hissed, but it was already too late. She had seen us.

Becky Vaughan was the half-breed Barbie of my high school, attached at the hip to Aiba Masaki, the Japanese Ken with probably just as much between the ears. The two of them were Mr. and Ms. _Everything_ and had been dating since they were practically in diapers. With a brief exception in my junior year when she and Aiba were ‘on a break’ and she may have been helping me with my English enunciation. With her tongue.

And now she was talking to Yamapi. _Shit_. They both came flouncing over around the same time Nino and Ryo emerged from wherever they had been undoubtedly sabotaging something.

“Jin!” Becky squealed, the pitch of her voice enough to make me wince. “It’s _so_ nice to see you again. What do you think of the decorations? Masaki and I did them ourselves.”

“Let’s hear it for the toilet paper!” Nino yelled, and Ryo gave some weak cat-calling. Nino turned to him, displeased. “What the _shit_ , Nishikido?”

“My stomach hurts, asshole,” Ryo snarked back, but he looked uneasy.

“Probably the punch,” I offered, trying not to laugh.

Kame almost fell on me as he leaned over to whisper in my ear, and I made a face of discomfort until I actually heard what he was saying. “I ran into him freaking out in the bathroom. He said he feels like a defective typewriter.”

“Shut _up_ ,” I replied, elated at the gossip. Yamapi was eyeballing me, so I discretely pulled out my phone and sent off a message to my crew.

Twenty minutes later, Sho and Jun showed up in matching pajamas with their bangs tied up and equal expressions of distress on their faces. Sho gently manhandled Ryo into a chair while Jun poured water down his throat and rubbed his shoulders.

“Is Nishikido-kun okay?” Becky asked, blinking up at me with genuinely concerned eyes.

I still felt Yamapi watching me, so I just nodded and gave a grunt of affirmation.

“Who do you think the father is?” Kame mused out loud, and I elbowed him.

We both looked at Nino, though. Our leader’s face went through an interesting series of reactions before he figured it out and gave us a scandalized look. “ _What_?”

Aiba chose that moment to show up, slinging his arm possessively around his girlfriend and pointedly pulling her away from me. He could somehow give me a dirty look while still looking pretty.

“It’s _okay_ ,” Becky told him, shrugging out of his grasp and reaching for Yamapi’s arm. “Jin-kun is dating Tomo-kun now. He’s not interested in me anymore.”

Damn you, woman. It took a second for Yamapi to put it together, then glare at me expectantly.

“ _Five years ago_ ,” I emphasized.

Yamapi actually looked like he was going to forgive me, then a pair of really nice boobs and wild, sexy hair nearly knocked over Kame and me as they breezed past.

“ _Meisa_?” Kame gasped, his eyes bulging out of his head like he was animated.

Once I pried my eyes away from her tits, I saw that it certainly was that bitch and wrinkled my nose in disgust. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

“It’s called a corset,” she spat, then leaned down to smirk at Ryo. “I was at work when I got the text. What’s this I hear about little Ryo-chan getting knocked up?”

“ _What_?” chorused Yamapi and Aiba, both of whom with identical expressions of confusion on their faces.

“Working as what, a hooker?” I replied, taking in the leather pants and high heels.

She flipped her long hair over one very bare shoulder as she turned to glare at me. “I tend bar at a club, idiot.”

“I’m _not pregnant_ ,” Ryo growled through his teeth. “That’s not even possible, you morons.”

“We’re not even like that,” Nino added, making a face that Ryo copied.

I couldn’t get over our drummer, gaping at her clothes. “Do you have a pole at work?” I asked.

She straightened up and walked towards me, obviously glancing down. “No, but you do.”

I followed her eyes and cringed at my hormones. “Shit.”

Yamapi turned his attention away from Ryo and made a disgusted face. “You really are a pig, Akanishi,” he said as he gave me those hurt eyes and shoved past me to leave.

I didn’t go after him. It was pouring outside and my buzz was totally gone.

###  _Stranded at the Drive-In_

It’s hard to avoid someone when you roll with his crowd, and all it took was a little late-night serenading to get Yamapi looking at me favorably again. He really is a sucker for my voice, which works out for me because singing is something I can do with little to no effort. I would probably be the lead singer of the T-birds if it wasn’t Nino’s band and I didn’t get incredibly shy whenever I had to sing in front of people I don’t know. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, there was a bit of truth to what that douchebag had said the other night. The guys at the bar? Fine. In Yamapi’s front yard at 2am? Fine. Not on a stage. I choked like Eminem in 8 Mile.

I blackmailed my little brother into letting me borrow his car and took Yamapi out on a proper date. First we hit up the McDonald’s value menu, then the 100-yen show drive-in. Hey, I’m on a budget. As it was, I had to bum some funds from Sho to do this properly, even if Yamapi got a part-time job sweeping floors at the Lawson’s around the corner and wanted to spend his paycheck on me.

“You can take me out next time,” I compromised as we settled into the backseat. Nobody wants a console digging in their sides when they’re trying to mack.

“You’re assuming there will be a next time,” Yamapi teased. God, I love when he fucks with me like that.

I spent most of the movie watching him, seeing up close how the emotions were displayed in his eyes as the story made him feel different things. I couldn’t even tell you what we were watching, some shitty 100-yen-show romantic comedy, the entire first half of which I spent gradually getting closer and closer to the hot piece of man next to me. He smelled really good, his cologne as well as his hair when he finally curled into my embrace and lay his head on my shoulder.

“I have something for you,” I mumbled into his curls.

“Oh?” he replied, sounding sleepy. “Do I have to get up?”

“Nope.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the present, letting it dangle from my fingers as I placed my palm in front of his face. “I’m giving this to you.”

Yamapi lifted his hand to touch it and outline the charm in a way that was almost erotic. “A naked lady silhouette? Don’t you have a necklace like this?”

“It _is_ mine,” I told him. “I want you to wear it. As a token of my… feelings.”

I could almost feel him smile. “Thanks, Jin. This really means a lot.”

“Ah, it’s nothing.” My face was heating up; I was glad he couldn’t see me.

“Will you put it on me?”

I managed to fasten the clasp on the back of his neck without making him move, then drummed my fingertips along his hairline on their way back to his shoulder. He shivered and I took the opportunity to drop my hand to his waist.

“I’m happy,” Yamapi said in this low, sexy voice as he snuggled closer. “I know now that you really respect me.”

My hand paused. Shit. What happened to the uninhibited guy I met on the beach? Is it different because we’re actually together now? Because I have a reputation? I was way too sober for this.

It wouldn’t hurt to try. I pretended that I was just stretching my fingers, resting them on Yamapi’s thigh, and nothing happened. Good sign. I kissed his head as a distraction while I slowly slid my palm across the denim, and I was just about to brush his fly with my fingertips when he squirmed.

“ _Jin_ ,” he gasped.

“Tomo,” I breathed, dipping my head to capture his mouth and taste his sweet lips.

I thought he was getting into it, reaching for me to sink his fingers into my hair, but really he was trying to push me away. “Jin!”

“ _What_ ,” I whined. I’m sure I sounded like a child, but it really didn’t make any sense. “Why can’t we fool around? Nobody can see us…”

Quicker than I could react, even after going most of the day without any smoke, Yamapi was out the door and the silver chain was flung across my lap. The naked lady charm mocked me from my own tented pants.

A small part of me hoped that he might have just had to run for the bathroom and I should stick around in case he comes back. I settled back to watch the movie, which was really the worst thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot of shitty movies.

I thought about my life, as I’m prone to do when I’m sober. I was twenty-two years old, a university drop-out, and unemployed. I lived in my mother’s basement and borrowed shit from my fucking _little brother_ , who goes to school and has a job and a girlfriend and only lives at home to save money, what the hell.

But I’m also in a band. We may be lazy stoners but we can play good music when we want to. When we have a reason to. We have the equipment and the time and sometimes even the talent. I hate almost everything about that bitch (except the obvious) but she’s a hellcat on the drums, Nino rocks the bass and lead vocals, and Sho can rap and play the keyboard like nobody’s business. I’m not that great at lead guitar, but I can do chords and harmonize really well, and since Nino and I write all of our own music, it’s all original.

I drove to the park after the movie ended and parked my ass on the swing set. I grew up here, spent my entire life in this shitty uni town, and I’m going to die here without any kind of glory if I just keep floating through life waiting for opportunities to come to me.

Waiting for Yamapi to come to me.

The only way I was going to get into his pants was to prove myself, prove that I really liked him as well as prove my worth as a man. That first one was easy because it’s true, but the second one would be a serious test of my dedication, rising to some kind of challenge and _winning_.

Then I remembered. Every few months the local independent radio station has an unofficial Battle of the Bands type competition. We’ve never entered because we went to one once to check it out and were blown away by the other bands there. We didn’t think that we were anywhere close to their level, and it costs something like an ounce of weed to enter.

Well, that settles that. T-birds lead guitarist Akanishi Jin will give up a week’s worth of fun to pay the entrance fee, work hard with his band to be epic, and earn the nookie of one Yamashita Tomohisa.

You just wait, Tomo baby. You won’t want to leave my backseat again.

###  _You’re the One that I Want_

“We’re really doing this,” Sho flailed backstage, wringing his hands and sweating through his bright purple shirt for the third time. “I can’t believe it.”

Jun lifted up Sho’s arms and aimed the blow dryer at each of his pits in turn. “Calm down, rock star. You look fabulous.”

“We _do_ look fabulous,” Nino agreed, popping the collar of his lime green shirt and adjusting his fedora.

My shirt was red, obviously. We all had black pants with checked suspenders and matching shoes with tinted glasses and fedoras, real fucking classy. Jun was totally hired forever.

Kame was running around setting things up, looking about as nervous as Sho and he wasn’t even going to be on stage. As it was, he hadn’t hooked up the mics right, otherwise there would have been a screech of feedback when he went to adjust Nino’s microphone stand and clocked him right in the face.

We all watched him go down, speechless except for Kame’s undignified squeak. A thousand things were running through my mind, none of which were comprehensible as Jun dropped the blow dryer and flew to Nino’s side.

Thankfully Nino woke up, and Ryo shoved past everyone and stuck up his middle finger up right in front of Nino’s face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“I know you’re flicking me off, asshole,” Nino replied, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. “But now there are three of you.”

I choked on my air.

“He can’t play like this,” Ryo diagnosed, rubbing his temples like _he_ was the one who was directly affected by this. “ _Shit_. Shit, shit, shit. What are we going to do?”

“I can, um,” Sho started, eyeing the levels on his keyboard. “I can add the bass line into my mix. It won’t sound as _good_ , but it’s better than nothing.”

“I can play the bass. It’s not like it’s _hard_ ,” Ryo said. He immediately pulled his shirt over his head to trade clothes with Nino right there, but I overlooked his scrawny chest in favor of what I knew was going to come out of his mouth before he even looked at me. “But I don’t know the lyrics well enough to sing more than the chorus. Jin, I need you to take lead.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“You can do it, Jin,” Sho cheered from behind me as Jun whipped off Nino’s pants to swap with Ryo. “Do it for Pi!”

“Fuck him, do it for _us_ ,” Ryo corrected, now standing before me in Nino’s entire ensemble, only a little big on him. “I have to back you up now, don’t I? We don’t have time to rehearse, so you better not fuck up.”

“Jin,” Nino croaked as Jun lifted him up. “You better enjoy this, because you will never get this chance again.”

He smirked at me and I felt a smile spread on my face, confidence appearing from somewhere within my shaking body. I could do this. I knew these melodies; I _composed_ them. All I had to do was stand a little further forward and sing them properly.

“I’ll do my best,” I told them firmly, taking my position at center stage and adjusting Nino’s mic stand (carefully) up to my height.

“Then it’s decided,” Ryo said authoritatively, turning to see Kame still tangled up in cables. “Kamenashi, aren’t you finished yet? We have to go on in like two minutes.”

“I don’t actually know what I’m doing,” Kame confessed. “The amps are color-coded, but anywhere else I’m lost.”

“Move,” came a strong female voice, and Kame fell right back on his ass as that bitch completely showed him up and set up our stage in forty-five seconds. “Anything else you want me to do for you?” she asked sarcastically, taking off her own fedora to wipe her brow.

“Go out with me,” Kame basically exhaled. “On a date.”

Ryo almost repeated history with my old mic stand as he tried to adjust it down to midget level, Jun unceremoniously dropped Nino, and I was pretty sure my mouth was hanging open in a way that wasn’t at all flattering.

Meisa just smiled. “Tell you what. If we win, I’ll let you take me out to celebrate.”

“Okay-” Kame started.

“But you’re not getting any,” she went on.

“That’s fine,” Kame said quickly, and I could almost see him plotting to write about this in his fantasy journal. “Good luck.”

“Good luck!” cheered Jun as he and Kame carried Nino backstage.

I met Ryo’s eye as he situated Nino’s bass guitar and gave him a firm nod. He gave me an unimpressed look. He still didn’t look too good; must be the fetus.

Taguchi and Yoko joined us with their horns, and the six of us took our places and had our own internal pep talks while we waited for the MC to announce us. We were the last ones to perform, the T-birds in their first legit competition. I was standing in the very front without Nino to cover me this time. _Bring it on_.

And we brought it. Shit sounds much better in a proper venue than a garage, and after the first couple bars I was just riding the high of the music we were making. It was a lot like surfing and getting high, but also like riding a roller coaster and fucking in public, all at the same time. Whether that makes sense or not, it was _amazing_ and I didn’t even have to think, the chords and notes just poured out of me and the way the music flowed proved that the others were on top of their games as well.

It felt good. Better than good, even. The melody came naturally like I’d been the one singing it the whole time, Ryo’s nasal harmony an interesting contrast when he jumped in on the choruses. I wouldn’t want to perform like this all the time – it just didn’t seem right without Nino, our leader – but it worked in a pinch.

We were only allowed to play two songs. I assume that’s because everyone fucks up on the first one, but we _nailed_ ours, so the second one was like a bonus. It was also one I wrote one night when I was stoned, while Jun was angsting about saving the world and Sho was angsting about grad school and Kame was pissed off about his hair or something trivial. The theme was basically to just be happy and not worry, an upbeat song about keeping your head up and finding joy in stupid shit.

The crowd ate it up. Since they were my own lyrics, I felt confident enough to look out into the audience and watch them bounce and sing along. The chorus was really easy to follow, so by the end of the song Ryo and I were practically drowned out by the fans.

It was a good thing, too, because I forgot the words the moment I saw _him_. Lingering in the back, leaning coolly against the wall with his hair slicked back and a leather jacket pulled over a white muscle shirt. It was hotter than most things I’ve seen in my life, particularly with that straw or sucker stick or whatever it was that was between his beautiful lips. I guess it could have been a cigarette, unlit and waiting for the end of the show. But Yamapi didn’t smoke.

Yamapi didn’t wear leather jackets or slick back his hair, either. This was all brand new.

Somehow I finished the song and thanked everyone for listening, then retreated backstage and begged Kame to pack up my stuff (what else were stage crews good for?) while I exited out of the back and made my way around to the front.

It _was_ a cigarette. “Got a light?” is all he said to me.

Hell yeah I had a light. I dug my Zippo out of my pocket and flicked it in front of his face, smirking at the thought of that old myth of owing seven years of good sex to the person who lights your cigarette as Yamapi sucked his cherry bright like he’d been smoking for years.

“Not too bad,” he observed, blowing his drag right in my face. That used to mean something too, but I can’t remember what. More sex, probably.

Whether he was talking about the cigarette or my performance, I would never know. “What happened to you?” I finally asked.

He shrugged. “Time for a change. You get it, right?”

I thought about my epiphany on the swing set the night he left me with a hard-on in the backseat of my brother’s car. “Yeah, I get it.”

He put out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, what a waste. “Tell me about it, stud.”

I didn’t even know what to say. Singing lead in a legit competition was nothing compared to this. I felt hot and cold at the same time, completely out of control of my mind and body just looking at him in that jacket and those tight jeans that made me want to drag him into the bathroom and completely blow everything I worked for this whole week. Literally.

“I feel like I got electrocuted,” I said honestly.

He nodded. “I hope you get your power back soon, because you’re going to need it.”

My eyebrows raised into my hairline as I heard the MC take the stage in the background. I felt hands clapping on my shoulder, Nino and Sho’s relaxed voices (although I suspect that Nino’s was due to some kind of painkiller), Ryo’s complaining, Kame and Jun’s nervous spazzing, and I even sensed that bitch somewhere close because she creeps me out like that. Taguchi and Yoko were there too, looking excited to hear the results, but all I could see was Yamapi, standing in front of me like some kind of Japanese Adonis and a better reward than any amount of money or street cred.

I won’t lie, money would be nice too. We could all use money. I would use my part to get a dub sack and love hotel for the weekend. _Yeah_.

Eons later when the MC was done pulling his reality show suspense shit and announced the winner, it wasn’t us. The runners-up weren’t us either, and you know what? I was okay with that. We had fun and learned some things, so it wasn’t a complete waste of a week’s sobriety.

Even Ryo was pleased, which put Sho at ease. “Are you feeling better, Ryo-chan?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Ryo said testily, eyeing all of us in turn. “Turns out I had this ulcer, but now I have drugs and I cut back on the rice, so it’s much better.”

Nino looked seriously relieved. I really don’t want to know.

As we relocated to that bitch’s club, which is a little classier than Jun’s bar since we were wearing fedoras and all, I noticed that Kame seemed kind of down. Then I remembered his bet and patted him on the back, signaling for Meisa to bring us a shot.

What she brought was a smack in the head for me and a kiss on the lips for Kame. He looked as surprised as I felt, at least until it appeared to click in his head what was happening and he flung his arms around her and devoured her like an oral Casanova. That’s my boy.

“But you lost,” Kame mumbled dazedly when they came up for air. Not that I was watching them like a creeper or anything.

“Lesson number one in dating Kuroki Meisa,” she whispered against his lips. “I always win.”

I felt my shirt being pulled from the back and ended up falling backwards into a booth across Yamapi’s lap. “Pervert,” he chided.

“You say that like it’s news,” I replied.

He shoved me off of his legs and cornered me in the dark end of the booth. “I’m much more subtle.”

Then he was kissing me and god, it was just perfect. Fucking perfect. I couldn’t even care that we were in a bar surrounded by all of our friends because life was just so ace right now and besides, I can hang out with them any old time. The T-birds, our crew; we’ll always be together.

Yamapi kissed me harder and I no longer thought of anything but him. It felt like I was flying up into the sky, high above the rest of the world where nothing else mattered. He was there with me, of course. He and I will always be together too.

###  _That’s the Way It Should Be! (The End)_


End file.
